Emptiness
by Pinay Tiger
Summary: One-shot. It hurts to love. And, sometimes, a smile hides so much. But, deep within, there’s always sorrow and pain, and an irrevocable sense of emptiness. (RE-Posted because it got deleted for some weird reason.)


Disclaimer: Nope. I don't own that cute and oh-so-adorable rurouni.

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Author's Notes: My apologies: I had this up like a month ago, or something like that, and then it got deleted. I didn't notice until I uploaded a story I started for another anime. Sorry to those who already read this. >. But this was for a challenge over at Meiji Tales (I forgot what month).

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Emptiness

By Pinay Tiger

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Kaoru sat alone, shivering, partly because of the cold and partly because of the slow trickle of beading rain. Night had come early. Everything felt desolate. Maybe it was because of the gray-flannel fog that accompanied the rain, or maybe because the night seemed so bleak. The air was cold and tender. Fine bumps formed on her creamy skin. She trembled. Whatever the reason, it _still_ wasn't enough to convince herself that this uneasy feeling of emptiness would go away. 

Her slumped form, incandescent with the liquid fall of ebony lace, was a pathetic sight to see. And she knew this. She felt like she couldn't sit, couldn't stand, couldn't run. Every aspiration - every wish - was being torn apart, ripped away. Could it be every dream was also sucked out to a cold and bitter reality? The rain continued….

Drunk with motion, she rose to her feet, only to have herself take a purposeful step forward. Her bare, pale foot met with the cold, wet dirt below. She looked to the stars, bright and luminous, and to the moon. Even in their natural brilliance, the stars did nothing to make her feel at ease. Things were definitely not right. Why was everything so lonely?

Perhaps if she took the chance to look at him, to meet amethyst pools with her own sapphire eyes shining an emotion she could never quite put to words, he in fact would have understood. _Took the chance_…She thought to herself spitefully. _Everyday - no, every moment - is a chance, and I can't even take a step closer to telling him._

Inwardly warring with the thought of rushing to him, with salty crystalline orbs snaking down her cheeks, and just asking him to sit down with her on the porch to talk about anything, Kaoru sighed. She slowly padded to the dojo gates, reluctant to prompt another step forward and leave without informing anyone of where she was headed. She could have just continued, but the sliding of the door caught her attention, and she threw a quick glance over her shoulder.

Yahiko met her questioning stare, but said nothing. He greeted her with a halfhearted smile, and she turned to face him. "Kaoru, Kenshin was about to tell some stories to Ayame and Suzume. He was worried about you and wanted to know if you were coming inside any time soon."

She mentally charted a list of ways to reply to him, but found it hard to speak. "I-I…don't know yet." Hushed, hoarse tone.

Yahiko took a side-glance to look her over wearily. "What's wrong?"

She shook her head in response, falling silent momentarily. "Just go back inside, will you?"

"Kaoru?"

"Inside, now," she stammered, annoyance and anger threading her nearly silent tone.

Yahiko set his jaw tight, trying his best to compose himself. He was showing some decency to her, flashing concern in her direction, and what he was greeted with pushed him to the edge. "Never mind; I didn't want to know _anyway_." He turned abruptly and shoved the door open, snapping it shut behind him.

Nothing had changed, absolutely nothing, except for her. She had drastically changed, but allowed no one to see the difference. How was she to confine her broken soul in this rigid state again? Was she condemned to this unearthly state of loneliness forever?

These thoughts circled, viciously relentless, swallowing her in abject sadness. The wind picked up, blowing back loose locks of raven's-wing hair. The rain had stopped. But even the rain was as fleeting as the wind.

She wrapped her arms around herself tightly, trying hard to replicate the same hold that had carried her through bad times when he was with her, trying to protect her from anyone or anything. Standing there, her mind ran freely. Her life was not what it used to be; living was dreaming punctuated with long, exhausting episodes of reality. "What will it be this time?" she asked aloud, but only loud enough for her to hear. Indeed, what _would_ it be this time? Many options raced through her mind, glinting with the security that supplemented control. But as soon as she registered the thought she began to dread the question. Sure, she could think of him again. She could always dream up some seemingly silly impossibly romantic incident.

But what was the point?

What joy can be found in something so lonely as a dream?

She really wanted to walk past those gates, and just head off to who knew where. Just to get away. But her feet couldn't budge, and she was still left thinking, contemplating. Trying hard to distract herself, she concentrated on the scents, sounds, and sights around her. She averted her gaze to the clouds that formed a thick, dark gray wall. The day seemed lost, taken away from her. And the clouds in their vast ugliness somehow made the sun set faster, for night to cast its lonely shadow earlier, that somehow that early sunset cut the day short.

She began to worry: if she were out to witness the last sliver of sun dissolve into the hoary lining, it would have been so similar to like watching the last sliver of hope dispel into the night. Again, this night was to be filled with the regret from the loss of another day, the loss of another chance.

Then, she did something stupid: she let her mind run free. Her imagination was blooming, taking over. She closed her eyes.

And, what if she opened them, and he was there by her side, his hand in hers? What if she opened her eyes, and he was there to embrace her lovingly, knowing he had the same feelings for her as she had for him? What if, by chance - if Destiny and Fortune would allow - he kissed her?

But when she opened her eyes, he wasn't there. All she could see was the emptiness of the night skies, and those ugly gray pillows that obscured the stars and the milky moon. The wind howled; suddenly, everything felt even colder. Staring into where she imagined he would be, the air rushed to her eyes. It blurred the nothingness before her.

Lost in her own thoughts, she didn't hear the sliding of the shoji, or the silent trek of a familiar body.

"Miss Kaoru?" Kenshin's voice was so tender, so warm. Oh, just hearing him say her name was enough to bring her back to reality. Somewhat startled, she turned awkwardly with a smile on her face.

"Yes?" Feigning happiness was probably an acquired attribute, but it was enough sometimes to fool people when you didn't want them knowing you were sad. She should've known better, because, this never really worked with Kenshin. "What is it?"

"It's very cold tonight, that it is. Why don't you come in now?"

Her feet ached from standing for so long and she ground one foot lightly to the floor to keep it from falling a sleep. She also needed something to do to keep herself distracted. "Oh no, I'm liking this weather. Actually, I was going to go for a walk into town for a bit." She lied. And he knew this.

"But it's getting late."

"No. It's still early. I just think the sun set a couple hours than it should have. Wouldn't you agree?"

"It's been raining, if not for just small scattered showers. The day was rather gloomy. It's a good thing Ayame and Suzume stayed here for the night. Otherwise, they would have had to walk in the early rain." He smiled at her.

She smiled back. "I'll just be gone for a bit. No one will notice, I promise."

Kenshin couldn't argue with her, and there was no point in denying her what she wanted. "Very well. If it does start to rain soon, please come home."

Kaoru gave a curt nod and turned for the dojo gates. Kenshin traced the outline of her trudging figure and turned to enter the room.

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Kaoru had been gone for some time now, and the rain had continued. Kenshin was sitting on the porch, umbrella in one hand, and a lantern in the other. She should have returned by now. And still, there was no sign of her. He called out her name several times, just in case she was in the vicinity of the dojo and would answer back. Everything was silent in the pitch black of the night, and he did manage to hear the incessant bark and howl of stray dogs. Heaving a sigh, Kenshin dropped the lantern and umbrella then strode into the dojo. 

Yahiko observed the older man push back a few stray locks of red hair. "Well?" he prompted.

"No sign of her yet," Kenshin whispered. "I'm really worried about her, that I am."

"I really wish she didn't have to go out on her own and make us worry like this. Hope she's doing okay. Maybe she's mad at me or something. I just don't know why she left like that. I mean I knew she was pretty upset with me for spilling her tea on her training gi. She was also mad that I thumped her on the head with my shinai when we were training." He nearly snickered at the though of him sparring with Kaoru from much earlier in the day. The thought crossed his mind that maybe that knock to the head had caused more damage than he had first thought.

As Yahiko stood Ayame and Suzume rushed to Kenshin, a shrill cry leaving both their lips, and tears streaking down their cheeks. "Uncle Ken, when will Kaoru come back? Is she okay?" Ayame asked.

Kenshin gave both girls a reassuring look. "I'll go off to find her, that I will! She'll be just fine." He received a small nod from both girls.

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By the time Kaoru reached the city, she started her pointless voyage to nowhere. She was dizzily tearing against the current, slipping through the cracks in the crowd, her eyes darting from face to face, expressions happy and sad, people beautiful and ugly, shouts here and there, the familiar or unimportant, laughs, yells, rocks, pebbles, dirt, puddles. She walked swiftly and edgily. 

Try as she might, she couldn't stop thinking about Kenshin. She thought taking this walk would do her good, but it presented more time for her to think. Her body continued walking just as impatiently and just as quickly, but she couldn't stop. She always wanted to say so much more to him.

When she was back there at the dojo, about to walk off alone into the night, why didn't he stop her? What if he didn't know she was even there? Obviously, he knew she was there. But what if he was the one walking through the city, on a pointless voyage as well, and he slipped through the crowds passing people, pebbles and puddles? But, see, what if he was just 'slipping through the crowds?' What if she was just another pebble or puddle on his way home?

The question was incessantly ringing in her head, and she nearly tripped on a rock. Her mind was nowhere near the rock. It had been some time now since their passing at the dojo, but her mind was still playing the scene over and over again, trying to find meaning in each second spent in each other's company, trying to remember his eyes. Who turned away first? Who looked first? Was he looking at her before she noticed him? What was he thinking, standing there, observing her stiffened and sodden form?

Someone passed her in the streets, and she thought he looked like him but he wasn't. He didn't have the red hair of the man she loved, or that silly demeanor. No. He was just a stranger. Still she felt strange; her heart was being stupid. She hated it when she was fragile. Just as she turned a corner, she saw him.

Lavender eyes warm and inviting, red hair wild and brilliant.

She couldn't hold the tears anymore. She knew that he didn't deserve to see her cry, and that he didn't want he to. Maybe he didn't want any of this. But that would only hurt more. She could hear him coming closer, walking down the forlorn stretch of brown ribbon. She could feel her frustrations leaking from her face. Pent up passions knotted every muscle. He came to her side, whispering her name. She couldn't look up. And if he was blank then it would only hurt, but if he showed the slightest of sympathy….

That would certainly hurt more. His pity would push her farther away. So she squeezed the black into the scene. And in that familiar darkness, there was no pain. But what was left? Swaying, cold, and far away she was empty.


End file.
